


Sirius x Hermione one-shots, collection

by moor



Series: Tumblr writing practice [5]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 07:29:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12859725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moor/pseuds/moor
Summary: Sirius/Hermione, various one-shots. NSFW.





	1. Prompt: Sirius and Hermione do drugs together

Seated on the tall stool beside him at the noisy pub, Hermione glared at Sirius.

“Stress relief? No thank you.”

“Come on, Hermione luv,” he said, grin widening. “It’ll help you relax.”

“I have better ways of relaxing than that,” she said with a sniff. “And if we get tested at work, and it’s still in my system, I’m up shite creek,” she muttered from behind her tankard.

Sirius scoffed. “They only test you during the first two years. After that, they figure whatever you’re doing is self-medicating and as long as you show up on time for your shift and don’t take a piss in the evidence room, you’re all clear.”

Her mouth gaping open, Hermione stared at Sirius in disbelief.

“Or so I’ve heard,” he said, glancing around. No one was paying them any mind. Good.

“You can’t be ser—no,” she said when Sirius straightened up, settling his shoulders. “No, Sirius.”

“Once,” he cajoled.

“No. If Harry finds out he’ll be so disappointed.”

“Then what Harry doesn’t need to know won’t hurt him,” said Sirius smoothly. “Barman!” He waved a wad of bills at the man who immediately came to collect their tab for the night.

“Sirius!”

But Sirius was already dragging Hermione away; once outside, he disapparated them on the spot with Hermione protesting mid-spin.

(BR)

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” muttered Hermione, rubbing at her temple. After hanging her coat and bag in the main hallway, she’d joined Sirius in his private lounge at Grimmauld Place.

“Come on, cheer up. This is supposed to be fun!” Sirius called over his shoulder as he opened a cabinet behind a hidden door behind a bookshelf behind his desk, activated by a specific code of wand-tapping and mediocre tap-dance. “Now, we have lots to choose from. I don’t suppose you’d be up for heroine for a first shot—”

“Certainly not!”

“Then how about something from the cannabis family?”

“Does it stink?”

“It all stinks beautifully,” he assured her.

“How did I… Oh, is that hashish? Look at all the different grades. That dark one looks good,” said Hermione thoughtfully.

A smirk on his handsome face, Sirius procured his guest half an ounce of premium hashish, slicing it carefully from the rest of the block. He set it on a small decorative plate and passed it to Hermione before turning back to his cabinet of contraband wonder and slicing an extra bit off for himself.

“Now, with hashish,” lectured Sirius, his back to Hermione, “I suggest you start out slow and small. Take breaks.” He reached in to collect a few items from a pull-out drawer. “Here, use these—”

He paused as he turned to look back at Hermione, who already had a pair of table knives in hand and a bluebell fire burning before her. In her other hand she was mid-way through slicing a nub of hashish off the block he’d given her to smoosh between the knives.

“Hm?” She asked, looking up to meet his eyes. “Sorry, you were saying something about breaks?”

Sirius looked over at her neatly arranged hash-op.

“I’m a quick learner,” reminded Hermione.

“Ah,” said Sirius. “Of course. Well, yes, I’ll just join you—”

Hermione conjured a second pair of somewhat burn-stained knives.

Sirius blinked.

Hermione shook the knives and the burn stains magically disappeared. She offered them to him again. “They’re clean.”

“Are you sure this is the first time you’ve smoked hashish?”

“Of course. Whatever gave you the idea I may already know my way around a bong?”

“Bong,” repeated Sirius cautiously.

“Or hash pipe,” said Hermione, conjuring one of each. “Do you have a preference?”

Sirius stared at Hermione.

Unashamed, she shook her hand once more and the bong re-shaped itself into a curvaceous, sexy figure. With a smirk, she offered it to him, along with one of her bluebell flames.

Sirius’ eyes widened, and his smirk reappeared. “Hermione, you little vixen, did you trick me into sharing my hash stash with you?” He was impressed.

“Successfully,” she agreed, lighting up the brown putty between her knives. The sweetly fragrant smoke simmered and rose like a mystical ghost, and Hermione leaned over it and winked at Sirius.

“Next time, you should come to my place.”


	2. Prompt: Marriage Law, Hermione x Sirius

Sirius stared down at the parchment in his hands, and glanced around the room with a small swallow.

Harry was in his room; Ron was outside; Molly and Arthur were in the kitchen; and Hermione was tucked away in the library.

Slowly, achingly slowly, a rakish grin stretched across his lips.

“YESSSSSSSS!” he cheered, pumping his fists.

And just for good measure, he did a little dance around his study.   
  
“May the odds be ever in my favour,” he murmured to himself, tracing his full lower lip with his finger as he re-read the missive.

Well, after Azkaban and the Veil, I am due, he mused.

His eyes glittered as they focused on the most important part of the letter: her name.

In spades.

 

* * *

(A month later)  
  
“Sirius?”

Harry’s voice roused the shaggy-haired man from his delightful reverie. “Hmm?”

“We’re all here,” said Harry. His brow dipped a bit. “Feeling all right? You look a bit flushed.”

“Everything is absolutely perfect,” said Sirius, with all his heart.

Harry glanced at Ron out of the corner of his eye, but nodded.

“Did Hermione find what she wanted, at Hogwarts?” asked Molly, glancing at the others. “I haven’t seen her since she came back.”

“She said yes and no, when I asked,” replied Harry, and he looked down at the tabletop with a shake of his head. “It’s not like her not to find what she’s looking for.”

“Maybe she’s still getting her head around something. She mentioned she was up to her eyeballs in legislation at the moment,” said Ron, reaching for an apple from the large ceramic platter.

“That’s Hermione, not satisfied until everything is perfect,” sighed Sirius, with a wide smile.

Alarmed at how… content… his godfather looked, Harry looked at him more closely.

“She’s been really tired recently, too, now that I think about it,” said Ron. He took a bite from his apple.

“She’s probably wearing herself out with this new project, poor thing,” said Molly. “I’ve caught her napping in the library, or even your study, a few times Sirius,” she said with a shake of her head. “She’s up all night mastering something.”

“Yes, yes, she has,” Sirius agreed proudly.

“Sirius…,” began Harry, strange suspicions conflicting within him. “Has Hermione mentioned anything to you about this research? She’s been pretty tight-lipped about it.”

Swallowing an unconscious groan, Sirius’s face tightened. “Very tight lipped,” he agreed hoarsely. He shifted minutely in his seat, and let his feet stretch out in front of him, wider.

Harry’s eye twitched.

“Well,” said Arthur as he poured another cup of tea for Molly, then himself. “I’ve wondered if it had anything to do with that Marriage Law that was sanctioned last year. I wouldn’t put it past Hermione to make sure she’s investigating her every option so she’s in the best bargaining position. Rumour has it she’s one of the top-seated eligibles.”

“At least they’re giving the girls a chance to negotiate their own contracts,” said Molly, with a smile towards her husband. “They need to marry, yes, but they get a choice… in a manner of speaking.”

“They get to choose from the top ranked purebloods, and those with no other relations to continue on their line,” explained Arthur to Ron, at his son’s blank look.

Harry’s eyes widened as he stared at his godfather, before the colour began draining from his face.

“And I hear the Purebloods are sharing some of their family trystories with their potential ‘wives’, to try and entice them,” said Arthur with a knowing look at his wife.

“Trystories?” asked Ron. “Do we have one?”

“Never needed one,” chuffed Arthur, only to receive a not-so-gentle slap to the chest from his charming wife—and a mute threat in her dark eyes.

“What’s a trystory?” asked Harry, glancing to the Weasleys.

Molly gave Arthur a Now You’ve Done It look, and arched her brow at him.

Sweat beading at his brow, Arthur shifted in his chair. “Er… you know the muggles have their… whadyoucallit… coppa souper?”

“Karma sutra,” purred Sirius, leaning back in his chair.

“YES! That’s a little bit like the family trystory: it is a record of the trysting, er, physical relationship… ah… scenarios… that the previous family members, er, engaged in,” said Arthur, a light blush staining his cheeks. “And, that is, it is used for bride-training… and hmm, how do I put this delicately? For motivational purposes.”

“Very motivational. The oldest families’ trystories even contains lists of rewards. And punishments,” Sirius drawled, and shifted again with a muted grunt. Then he glanced at the clock. “Hmm. Well, I do hate to cut this informative session short, but my—daily meeting with Hermione is in a few minutes, and we know she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” He stood, and inclined his head at the others, hunching his shoulders forward as he leaned against the doorway. He nodded respectfully to them all, until his eyes met Harry’s.

He didn’t miss Harry’s positively ashen complexion, or shaking hands. The young man’s tea had gone cold in its cup.

Ron lifted a hand to wave at Sirius. “We know what she’s like when she doesn’t get what she wants, mate. Go, with haste!”

“Oh, Sirius, you haven’t mentioned if your petition went through for your eligible, yet? Have you heard,” called Molly as Sirius straightened. “Oh, Sirius—” she gasped, and then gave him a scathing look. “Really, what…”

Rather proud of his jutting erection as it pressed visibly against the confines of his robes, Sirius chuckled. “Yes, the Ministry approved it, and we were hand-fasted. We have until next spring to conceive an heir to the Black line for the binding to be finalized.”

“And the lucky girl?” asked Ron, oblivious to Harry’s shaking head. “Is she taking this whole thing as seriously as she should? An heir for the Black line’s a big deal, isn’t it?”  
  
“Sirius?” they heard Hermione call from down the hall. “I’m ready—oh, hi everyone.”

Sirius smirked. “Oh, she’s incredibly dedicated.”


End file.
